100 mornings hangover-free

Disclaimer: the following is based solely on my unique lived experience and is not intended to constitute medical advice. Depending on an individual’s level of chemical dependency, reducing alcohol use can be very dangerous. Please consult a physician or specialist if you have questions or concerns about your drinking habits or how to reduce drinking safely. Resources provided at the end of this page.

The short

I feel awesome without alcohol in my life. I feel bad (best case scenario, meh) with alcohol in my life.

The long

100 days ago, I decided I needed a long break from alcohol following a harrowing hangover. Over the years, I’ve participated in a dry January or the like, but at the 30-day mark I always invited alcohol back in. Drinking culture has been normal and constant in my life for so long that it felt confusing to consider a longer break, or (gasp) to remove it altogether. How could I live without something we collectively are so obsessed with? How do I know if I should stop without a rock bottom? Is alcohol really that bad?

I have held a very narrow view of what constitutes a problem drinker, never identifying with the few stereotypes of problem drinking. I’ve been a “social drinker,” and I imagine my drinking was the type you see routinely. While most of the time I walked away from a night involving alcohol feeling relatively unscathed, occasionally there would be what I call the harrowing hangover.

Harrowing hangovers have been demanding my attention since I entered my 30s, when they began happening to me. The post-drinking ritual of a hangover went from a silly joke on Saturday mornings, to a truly soul crushing event. Hangovers brought ruined Sundays, missed work outs, and days of post-drinking anxiety.

Every harrowing hangover would bring some version of the question, “Why on earth do I choose this?” (and often, the voice would sound far more critical and rooted in self-loathing). As someone who pours a lot of love and time into managing their nervous system, it became increasingly disjointed to choose alcohol, the gasoline lighting my low-lying anxiety ablaze, each and every time.

Benefits

You’ve probably gathered by now that I do not enjoy feeling hungover. Waking up feeling truly well is the biggest win for me, by FAR. My mood is more stable, and my anxiety has quelled considerably. When I do have an anxious moment, day, etc. (because human life still happens to me) I know it’s not because I’ve poisoned myself. I have noticed my skin is brighter and breaking out less, I’m feeling less puffy, and my energy is more consistent. I have always been a big fan of sleep, and I do not miss having sketchy sleep on the nights I would drink alcohol. I love being able to drive no matter what, I love speaking with more clarity and having sharp memories of how a wedding, party, or night went.

Far more science-y benefits can be found under the resources named below, but I’ve gathered that the health benefits of not drinking are, basically, everything. Pick an organ, pick a function of the body… it will improve (again, not a doctor).

Drawbacks

So yeah, there can be some awkwardness not drinking when most everyone else is. I occasionally feel left out or misunderstood. I have to risk people not getting it. It can be uncomfortable to confront the reality that most of us are conditioned to believe we want and need alcohol to enjoy our lives. Doing the work of unlearning doesn’t mean the majority of those around you have, or want to, and that can be hard. I am also not the alcohol police and have NO interest in making choices for others. The aforementioned awkwardness has been especially true of “firsts” - weddings, birthdays, beach days, etc., where previously I went into autopilot with drinking.

There have been some deep hard conversations along the way. Losing the ritual (and whatever else it meant to you) of drinking can impact relationships.

Is not drinking hard? Eh, I have had moments of craving but not much beyond a sip. Being almost ready to not drink, knowing deep down that alcohol doesn’t serve me but still having it consistently, was much more painful for me. In my experience so far, the reward of not abandoning myself, or trusting myself, has been worth it every single time. 

Resources

Perhaps you’ve noticed an influx of NA options and mocktails in recent years. I’m so grateful for the voices that have created and uplifted the sober curious movement, including Ruby Warrington, who coined the phrase in her 2018 book Sober Curious.

The sober curious movement has allowed us to find more nuance in the cultural conversation around alcohol; creating space for people who find themselves between the binary of “you’re a problematic drinker or a normal person drinker.”

My personal favorite has been This Naked Mind by Annie Grace. Grace spoke right to me, slowly dismantling the cultural myths I’d absorbed about why we think we need alcohol. Grace delivers this topic with compassion, openness and delightfully clear facts. While many narratives in our cultural conversation around alcohol put the focus on the individual and their willpower (“can” you drink or “can’t” you?), Grace’s lens allowed me to see alcohol for what it is. From that place, I changed my focus from asking if I can handle alcohol, to if I want to keep it around.

Another crucial piece of wisdom in my unlearning was the book The Way of Integrity by Martha Beck. This is not a resource specifically for sober exploration, but rather a broader dive into our own core values. What we truly want, believe and embody, versus what we might be doing out of expectation from the larger culture. Beck calls this your true nature versus your culture. I learned through years of reflection that much of my pull toward alcohol not of my own desire at all, but rather what I’ve learned from our culture, alcohol = fun, freedom, sexiness, belonging. This book struck a chord many times. I’d file this particular unlearning resource under “the truth will set you free but first it will piss you off.”

Is it forever? What now?

I’m in an ever-evolving questioning of how or if alcohol will be a part of my life. Will I never enjoy a glass of champagne at a wedding, or try a local wine if I’m ever in Europe? I don’t know.

I have had some sips of others’ alcoholic drinks here and there in my first 100 days alcohol-free. I haven’t felt this makes me want to drink more, nor do I think a whole drink would send me careening into a drinking binge (I recognize that is not the case for everyone, and that is not a safe mentality for everyone).

What I feel confident about is that alcohol has been decentered from my life experience. My default is to go for a mocktail or NA beer, and my confidence in attending events alcohol-free only grows.

As a mental health professional, the growing conversation around alcohol thrills me. Let’s keep exploring together; about alcohol or anything else that might be keeping us from our truest, most peaceful lives.

Additional resources

If you find yourself in immediate crisis, please call 911 or go to your nearest emergency room.

Substance Use and Mental Health Services Association (SAMHSA)

SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders. 1-800-662-HELP (4357) or text 988

Alcoholics Anonymous

aa.org

Quit like a woman by Holly Whitaker

We are the luckiest by Laura McKowen

What does it mean to be a holistic provider?

The term holistic seems to mean a lot of different things to different people. Over the years, I’ve noticed just how varied interpretations of this term can be, so I want to talk about what holism means in my work.

Holistic is defined as “the belief that the parts of something are interconnected and can be explained only by reference to the whole” (Google). Providing holistic care means I am dedicated to seeing and treating the whole person, including social and societal factors, rather than just presenting symptoms.

Holism also emphasizes the interconnectedness of a person’s physical, mental, emotional, social, and spiritual well-being. That’s why my work has an incorporates somatic (aka body) awareness, practices and the mind-body connection.

If a person comes to therapy wanting to reduce overthinking, we aren’t treating the symptoms of the mind in isolation. Holism is the recognition that this symptom, a learned pattern of overthinking, is the tip of an iceberg. Beneath this symptom, we may find relevant family of origin dynamics, learned rules from a particular culture (implicit or explicit rules), and wise sensations in the body.

We won’t work just with how you think, but how you breathe, sleep, move in the world. Daily habits such as eating and drinking can also be valuable information about your wellness as a whole.

In my work, dedication to providing holistic care means I will guide therapy clients to explore a variety of influences that have co-created their current patterns. One example would be working on body image within the context of our patriarchal culture (assuming the client is, in fact, of this culture). Mindset work alone does not represent holism and would be incomplete. The focus on intersectionality of privilege and oppression may also come into play (this something I continue to deepen my knowledge of, personally and professionally. More on that later).

Holistic body image work might sound like: what are your early memories of your body? What were conversations around food or body in your home growing up? What messages are you aware of in our bigger culture as it relates to body size? Have you faced oppression in our culture due to body size?

What does holistic health look like to you?

Caring for yourself when the world is on fire

“Self-care is an act of resistance” – Audre Lorde

If you are a person with eyeballs and internet connection, you are witnessing the deep sense of unrest moving through our country.

And if you’re a person who values compassion, justice, and empathy? Yikes. If I could hug ya right now, I would.

You aren’t alone. We are absorbing distressing information at an alarming rate. As the world feels increasingly hard, unsettling and scary, people are struggling with one thing when it comes to self-care: permission.

Permission to slow down.

Permission to laugh, celebrate and find joy.

Permission to unclench your jaw and take a nourishing breath.

Permission to prioritize what makes your body feel good.

Permission to take deep care of your mental health.

Permission to make space for things that bring you pleasure.

Permission to show up for yourself in big and small ways.

We cannot wait until the world problems are healed before we care for ourselves. It’s not selfish or wrong or even ignorant to put our own self-care on the map.

Self-care does not mean turning a blind eye. But when was the last time you took a break?

What if you could care deeply about what’s happening AND care for yourself?

If it was possible to hold both truths, how would you move through the world? What decisions would you make for yourself and your life?

Let’s take it a step further with some inspiration from the great American writer, activist, and intersectional feminist Audre Lorde. Lorde famously stated, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.” Lorde spoke up for self-care as an act of resistance for Black feminists during the Civil Rights Movement.

With this wisdom in mind, we can reframe our self-care as a crucial tool in the fight toward great equity for all.

Eat breakfast.

Take that walk.

Book that doctor’s appointment.

Give yourself that five minutes to meditate.

What can you do for yourself this week?

It's Still Us In Here

“Wherever you go, there you are” – Jon Kabat-Zinn

We are a nation obsessed with destinations.

That’s why when your aunt asks you “Are you dating anyone?” at the dinner party, it might sound like, “Are you getting married any time soon?”

Or “How are things going with your job?” might feel like “Have you made something of yourself yet?”

 (Come on. I can't be the only one with a neurotic translator living in my head.)

I’m here to remind us that external validation is something, but certainly not everything.

Milestones are great! But you guys. It’s still just us in here. With our wild emotions, off days, and full humanity.

We are promised that the ring, the promotion, the degree will transport to a beyond-human place. We’ll cross the finish line and enter nirvana. On the other side of the next accomplishment, an oasis free of bad moods and parking tickets awaits you.

But it’s still us in here (*points to heart*).

Ever notice the urgency of boarding a plane? You can feel the crowd of people holding their breath as they wait for their group to board. Group 8 folks are breathing down the back of group 1. I can practically hear the collective self-talk If I just get on the plane, I’ll practically be there already.

If I just get to my seat and settle in, I’ll practically be there already.

If I just get my luggage from baggage claim, I’ll practically be there already.

But y’all. We can only ever be here. It’s still us in here.

I have to admit I always have a funny feeling after a big accomplishment happens. Wasn’t this supposed to be it?

In my therapy practice, we spend a lot of time talking about the principle of the here-and-now. Make space for exactly who you are in the present moment. Right now, what does it feel like to be me? How can I fully be here?

For me, it usually involves taking some deliberate breaths and giving myself some intentional self-talk. How can I support you? What do you need to feel or do?

It’s still us in here. Let’s take care of us.

Stepping Up Self-care

Connect with yourself. What do you need? Our self-care has to go beyond bubble baths this year, folks. Do you have a therapist? Self-awareness is an absolute necessity. Have a place where you can bring your fears, your frustrations, and truly work through them.

What can you do to support your body? Day to day, moment to moment, our nervous systems are going through a lot. Exercise and meditation are good places to check in. Good sleep. Drink water! Think back to basics.

Strengthen your values. What do you value? Humor? Faith? Get clear on what your guiding light is and infuse more into your day. (More resources on embodying values coming!)

Communicate joyfully to your community. Speak from your joy, not from your fears. As author Elizabeth Gilbert writes, “Your fear is the most boring thing about you.” We ALL have fears. Many of them very appropriate. Do the work necessary to keep your fears in check when you’re speaking out to others, so you’re not projecting all day (Have you gotten that therapist yet?). The world needs your joy, your hope. And you need these things, too.

Forgive your humanity. On days when joy feels hard to access, give yourself grace. No one is expected to be their best every day. Give yourself a dose of gentleness. The aim is not to turn into a perfection robot overnight (perfection is just fear, too). The goal is to take care of yourself so that you can show up for yourself and for others.

Whether you are leading a team online from your couch or caring for tiny humans all day, your community and your connection will only be as strong as your self-care.

the compassionate response

Today I want to share a practice that served me greatly in a past life when I was primarily working with young children. This tool helps dissolve intense emotion and invite in compassion for someone you may be having a conflict or hard time with. It can also serve as an incredible tool to offer self-compassion.

I set a timer and sit in meditation for a few minutes, breathe, and visualize myself (or the other person) in light. I imagine them in their best, most secure selves. I envision their needs being met and decisions coming easily to them or their caretakers.

This visualization meditation is called The Compassionate Response from Kim John Payne, author of Simplicity Parenting.

1)      Get centered

Breathe gently. Focus your attention on your heart area.

Use self-talk or mantra that helps you feel calm.

Examples: “relax”; “peace begins with me”; “Just a breath in, just a breath out”; “this is not personal”

2)      Golden Moment

Imagine the child happy, at peace, engaged, in the flow of his or her life.

Several images may come.

Let them be, until one becomes clearer than the others.

Keep that image in your mind.

Notice how you feel, especially in your body.

Release or breathe the picture out

3)      Soul Fever

Imagine yourself or the child upset, withdrawn, angry, down. Allow the images to surface, until one picture is clearer.

Hold this image and notice how you feel, especially in your body.

Practice drawing close or breathing in the picture of the soul fevered child.

4)      Both together

Hold both pictures in your imagination at once.

Move your attention gently from one to the other. Breathe in the soul-fevered picture, then breathe out the light filled golden moment picture.

5)      Use it, don’t lose it

Practice the exercise in quiet moments, alone, so that you are more prepared to find center next time there is a hard moment. Over time it begins to come naturally.

Accepting What Is

“You are as worthy in your stillness as you are in your busyness. You are as worthy in your fear as you are in your joy, your confidence, your upliftedness.”

I’ve been too tired to write. So I’m writing about being tired.

Ever have one of those moments where you realize you’ve been clenching your jaw, painting on a manic smile and calling it good? Zipping your emotions up tightly and storing them right at the surface, but not letting them out? For days, weeks, months?

It’s easy to do these days. It’s easy to want to treat 2020 like it’s not 2020. To want to carry on with your goals, dreams, plans like things haven’t shifted. To quote my mentor and soul sister Juliana Mitchell, to acknowledge that this year is a “sacred shitshow.”

I went back to work a month and a half ago, and I’m grateful to be back. I love my work, but things have (appropriately) changed. There are new protocols and new fears to navigate. What used to take one step feels like it’s seven. It all feels big, and I didn’t realize I wasn’t putting it down.

I came home from work one Friday, and had a half hour before I had dinner plans. I said to my roommate Amy, “I know I’ll enjoy tonight, but I wish I had nothing to do. I’m so tired.”

She said, “Let yourself be tired.”

My first instinct was to go through every worst case scenario of how anyone I loved would be impacted by my having less-than-optimal-energy because I care for you all and am very neurotic.

As I went to correct her, I realized nothing bad would happen if I allowed myself to be tired. I didn’t even have anything to DO in that moment, but was resisting letting even a little bit go.

I’d like to remind you all that if you’re having a moment (or 20) of fear, grief, exhaustion, annoyance, it’s ok to be that. Be that, right now.

You are as worthy in your stillness as you are in your busyness. You are as worthy in your fear as you are in your joy, your confidence, your upliftedness.

Let yourself be tired. There’s room on my couch.

Look for the good

I had a painful week last week. Literally.

I did something to my neck that worsened as the days past and left me completely stiff by the end of the week, finding it difficult to move my neck and back at all. Turns out you use those muscles a lot.

You know when you have a cold and suddenly can’t believe you ever breathed deeply and effortlessly and how could you not have realized how ridiculously lucky you were all those times?! It was like that, but I was a
deeply pained version of the Tin man.

By Friday I was in so much pain, I was sent home from work. I immediately collapsed into my roommate Amy’s arms about how much pain I was in and how I didn’t know what to do.

A trip to urgent care, some medication, and a new pillow later, I was feeling closer to human. Sore but no longer Tin man in tears.

On Sunday morning, Amy and I were having coffee in the garden and she asked if I wanted to do a 30 minute gentle yoga class with her. I felt hesitant but figured I could always sit and listen.

As she asked us to scan our bodies, I noticed how many parts of me felt well. My legs felt strong, my chest felt open, my breath felt powerful.

I got to thinking about how many parts of my life were good the past few days: the co-workers that stepped in at work to pick up the slack and banned together to send me home early; the friend that held me in my deepest pain and wiped my tears; the friend that showed up to remind me to breathe and drove me to buy a new pillow; the mama that drove me to urgent care and made me soup; the friends and neighbors who checked in to see if it was getting better.

Even when you’re deep down in the muck of it and all you can see is loud pain, I promise there is good surrounding you, guiding you to the other side.

Open yourself to the angels of support surrounding you at all times. You’re still here because of them.

Give Them grace

Our culture demands that we think in a linear fashion. In my corner of the world, the linear formula to happiness sounded something like, “go to school, get good grades, get into college, get a job, get married, have kids, get a better, job, better car.” While you’re at it, don’t forget to wear a smile, because there’s approximately one acceptable emotion, and it should sound like “I’m fine!”

However, this way of thinking doesn’t take into account life’s unpredictability, not to mention the incredible complexity of being a human, with its vast array of emotions, experiences, and phases. Basically, linear thinking doesn’t think to incorporate reality.

I think that the last two months have been a pretty stellar example of life bursting our bubble of disillusioned control. The daily routines we’ve clung to have been altered, the distraction of busyness has been put on hold and we’ve been forced to turn inward.

We have been forced to be with ourselves in a unique way. I, for one, have never felt so intimately aware of the paradoxes of my emotions. One moment I’m feeling grateful and free, the next I’m feeling worry and agitation. There are beautiful heroic acts being shown by our front line workers and people going out of their way to spread kindness, juxtaposed with disturbing headlines and hateful Facebook comment wars.

It’s no surprise to me that parents are reporting that their children are displaying new (sometimes unpleasant) behaviors, unusual sleep patterns, or developmental “regression.” They are grieving the safety of their routines, just like we are. Missing their friends, teachers and neighbors, just like we are. They feel happy and scared and confused all in one day, just like we are.

Allison Gunta, Speech Language Pathologist and mother of two under two, says “All behavior is a form of communication. Think of all the odd things we as adults are doing – I don’t even eat bread but I read about baking bread for an hour today… I just give them grace. I don’t bring attention to it. This too shall pass.”

To your children, to your spouses, to yourselves:

give them grace,

give them grace,

give them grace.

Smitten with life

A few years back, my dad treated me to a gorgeous Italian meal for my birthday. The perfectly dim lighting and smell of garlic filled my senses. As a warm bread basket and a glass of bubbly Prosecco arrived, I looked over at my dad and said, “In this moment, I am smitten with life.”

In preparing for this essay, I googled the definition of smitten, and found the two most common explanations were: to literally be struck by something, or to be enamored by something. In that moment, I felt both of them.

You know those moments of your day? They don’t always get the attention they deserve. We yell about the promotions, graduations, and high volume accomplishments… but what about the in between joys? What about the quiet, delicious moments that strike you on an ordinary day? What about that involuntary rush of happiness in that awesome cup of coffee?

Life is mostly filled with this simple luxuries, and yet we breeze over them like they’re outtakes on the cutting room floor.

This is where gratitude comes in. According to research at UC Berkeley, gratitude improves sleep, tendency to exercise, cardiovascular health, mood, optimism and hope. It also reduces substance abuse, fat intake, cortisol, blood pressure, suicidal thoughts, inflammation, and perceived stress and depression in health care providers.

One way to incorporate gratitude in a practical way is with a gratitude jar. I borrowed this idea from Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love and Big Magic.

Every week, you jot down a moment that made you feel grateful. Place it in the jar, and at the end of the year you empty it out and get to soak up all the glorious, smitten moments in your life.

I enjoy the challenge of getting as specific as I can. Instead of the usual blanket-statement “I’m grateful for my family and friends,” I find myself looking for things with a fine-toothed comb of gratitude. It might be a phone call with mom, hearing the birds in February or coffee with the cat running around.

An ode to the tiny magic moments.

Another practice is to soak it up in your body whenever you feel those smitten moments sneaking up on you. Take a breath, notice, pause. Even if it’s just for a moment, your central nervous system will thank you. Over time, it will be second nature.

May your days strike you with simple joys. May you feel smitten with your life.

Kate Licciardello